The sky was gray, hiding the joyous sunrise. Although warmer than it had been all week, there still was a chill in the air. I’m not sure if it was from the wind or yesterday’s horrific news from Connecticut. But the day seemed bleak. Almost hopeless. I ran quietly along the water’s edge, watching the slate gray reservoir’s waves lap against the land. Two geese flew over, oblivious to yesterday’s shootings. With every footfall, I thought of the children. The bravery of the teachers and administrators. I thought of the pain the parents must feel. I thought of my own three sons and my wife who is a teacher. Dear God. It could have been them. What an incredibly evil act we witnessed yesterday.
The Mayans just might be right about the 21st.
Like most parents, my first reaction was to think about my children. I nearly crushed the boys last night when they got home. They got the kind of hug my oldest son got on 9/11. It was one of those “realization that the world is an evil place that can really suck sometimes” kind of hugs.
I ran some more but could not shake the sadness. Evil permeates a psyche like oils permeate a canvas. Mine was painted black.
Sending our kids to school is a huge act of faith, but we routinely do it everyday. We’re blessed with being oblivious to the risks in the world. Yesterday, that bubble of security was once again popped by a vicious killer. A killer of children. Who in the hell kills innocent children?
I’m at a loss for words.
But maybe words aren’t what are required. I guess I could have spent yesterday afternoon preaching about why I thought yesterday happened. I know a lot of folks on Facebook and Twitter did. I turned off my computer and spent time with my family instead. Figured that was the best thing to do under the circumstances.
I finished my run and looked at my watch. I had been running just over two hours and had covered 14 miles. My heart, lungs and soul had gotten a good workout. But I still don’t know how to explain yesterday.
I’m still at a loss for words. And will be for a long time.
Psalm 10 is chilling to read after yesterday.
Ramsey, please consider this. If you, with you’re talents of writing, are at loss of words about yesterday, can you even imagine how we, who do not share those talents, are doing? Not way is meant to slight you, but yesterday hurt, to the bottom of my soul. If ever I wished I had been in the line of fire and been able to do something to stop such a tradegy, it was yesterday. This ole Marine was ready to whoop someone’s butt yesterday. I could have been armed with a toothpick and I think I would have tried. ANYTHING to protect a child. Still think a good scream might be in order. Simply senseless.
I agree with Ed above. There are no words.
You spoke mountains. Thanks for putting into words the best you could.
Thank you for this message today. Your loss for words speaks volumes for the rest of us.